Hide-and-Seek
by TolkienGirl
Summary: In the end, they were one another, playing an endless game of hide-and-seek in each other's shadows. (Thor and Loki, post-Avengers)


**A/N: This was a random thought that popped into my head and then practically wrote itself. It was kind a delight. :-) I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! I was kind of inspired by how people disregard Thor's worth as a character—I myself love both brothers and think that neither of them have it easy. Warning: minor Odin-hating. Particularly from Loki. **

**No slash, of course, just brotherly angst.**

**I don't own anything. Moment of silence for my sorry life. ;-)**

What he would have given to possess those whispering footsteps, as he neared the pristine prison—but his was a heavy tread, as it always had been.

Perhaps after all, though, it did not matter. The one within would have known that he was coming without having to hear him.

The pale carved profile of the one whom he had once called "brother" was tilted upwards, gazing with lazily penetrating force at something Thor could not see.

Perhaps there was nothing to see.

As he approached, the bright green eyes—too bright—flickered faintly, but there was no other indication that his presence had been detected until Loki spoke.

"What an honor." The voice was as calm as ever, but there was a twisted smile beneath the words, tense and deadly as a coiled serpent.

"Brother—" Thor knew not how else to address him. What the word might kindle of Loki's wrath, he could not tell, but there was nothing else to say, no other way to begin.

"Brother?" the serpent had not struck yet. Loki turned his head and fixed his eyes unwaveringly on Thor's. His face was gaunt, more aquiline than ever. And yet, the frailty that hung about him was sharp and hard-edged…he looked as one who had passed beyond weariness to the brittle, alert near-madness that lies on the other side of exhaustion. "Brother? Hadn't we better lay to rest such honeyed words?"

"I have no gift of speech, you know this," Thor answered haltingly. "I only spoke—"

"As one who pities!" the sting came then, but Thor wondered if it did not pain Loki the more. "As one who dangles the world from his finger at a fitful child, to ease his own conscience by showing him what he _might have had_. Better you had kept your world in the dark, away from my eyes—else I might never have tried to take it from you…_brother._"

Thor stumbled to speak again, but Loki's ever-shifting mask had changed. There was a spark of amusement in his deep eyes. "This has been plaguing you, hasn't it?" he inquired, with interest that hinted at, but never showed, concern. "Restless nights, wondering how and when you could make peace with your pettiness, deciding upon the hour when you would come and _grind_ your mercy into me as stone upon stone. And then what? You leave? Refreshed in mind? Abandoning me once more to the judicious treatment of the All-Father, who—"

Thor tried to rend the silky, binding web in which Loki's words had entangled him…just as they always did. He broke in, "Loki, you know that we cannot let your crimes against Earth and its innocents go unpunished. But more than that, Father does this for your own good—keeps you here until you have come to your senses, so that you can be safe from your own—"

Loki's lips curled in derision that was tinged with pain. "Or perhaps he wishes to salvage what remains of his bargaining chip." Once more, composure slid over his face as effortlessly as a cloak. "Do not speak to me of your father, Thor. I am no Odinson. The family cares were never meant for me."

"Father loves you!"

"Father loved what he thought I could do for him," Loki returned, suavely—but forgetting, Thor noticed, to cast aside the hated title of father. "And in the end, that was still only enough to make me second-best. Oh, brother—despite your thick-headedness, surely you can see…it was _always going to be you._"

"Only because I am a natural-born Odinson," Thor argued. Doubtless these words would only hurt Loki more, but he _had_ to say them. "Father never loved me better."

"Spare me," Loki murmured dryly, "from the platitudes of the thunder god. They fall as heavily as your bolts."

"I do not lie!" Thor shook his head in disbelief. "Brother, how can you think that Father preferred me? It was I who would fight and lead, but he never sought my counsel. It was your intellect and wisdom that he valued. I love my—our father, but I have long since accepted that I am no better than a hammer in his hand. I will never be the raven on his shoulder."

Loki stood. It took effort, Thor could see, and his heart felt a pang when he realized that Loki's inert nonchalance was only a disguise of his physical weakness. Whether he had been poorly tended to, or whether confinement's effects on his spirit was enough to dull his health, Thor did not know.

He had not the time to contemplate this, for Loki had moved closer to him and was now standing close behind the glass barrier, his eyes boring into Thor's. His gaze burned, but his voice was still soft, though taut as a bow string. "_You_ felt less-valued? A few scraps of consultation from the All-Father were not enough to blot out how his eyes shown when you rode out to lead his conquests! Thor, Thor—have I not heard that name championed all my life? It strikes a blow to me more hateful than those of your hammer."

"Father has not cast you out, or thrown you to the depths of Yotunheim! I was not permitted to stay in Asgard during my banishment!"

Loki's hands pressed suddenly against the glass, the first real gesture of desperation that Thor had witnessed in him. "You think mine is the kinder punishment? My soul rots here, Thor. You were free on earth—weak, but free. You were not alone."

Thor had once appreciated the barrier between them—it seemed in some small way to protect him from the clinging tendrils of Loki's silver words. But now it was a burden—a terrible divider. His brother's—yes, still a brother—clever, thin hands, now leaning against the glass in silent supplication, were as unreachable to him as the depths of Loki's unfathomable mind.

"I will visit you, if…if that is your wish."

Loki's hands fell to his side, and he smiled again, patiently, as one smiles at a foolish child. "For the first time, I am grateful that my wishes are meaningless in the eyes of the All-Father. No, Thor, do not visit me. It is better to be alone than to be once more _in your shadow._"

Thor took a step back, stunned. "In _my_ shadow? Loki, have you not heard me—no conquests, no triumphant charges could equal being taken into the All-Father's confidence. Loki, there was a shadow—but it was _yours_. And I could never break its borders."

There was a long silence. Then Loki laughed—bitterly, but without scorn. "Indeed! Have we not been playing a game of hide-and-seek, brother? Chasing the glory of each other's shadows? Do you not see, it is all of the All-Father's doing? Mayhap I spoke in haste. Perhaps you, too, are only valued for what you can do for him. Lead. Conquer. _Rule._"

"No. Father loves us." The words hung heavily in the air.

Loki's silence was more persuasive, more chilling than any smooth words he could have spoken.

"Brother—"

"Go, Thor," said Loki softly. "Bring back a realm. Dangle it above me, if you must. But remember, no matter what you do—we are both in _his_ shadow."

Thor turned to go, and then turned back again. "I know not what the All-Father means by his designs. But know this, brother. I have loved you. I still do. I always will. And you know me too well—I am not clever enough to use such words as a disguise." Knowing not what else to do, he raised his hand and pressed it against the glass, where Loki's had been—on the other side—a moment before. "Farewell."

For a second, Loki's hand hovered hesitantly, as though he would match Thor's gesture from his side. But then his hand fell, and the thought seemed to have passed, uncaptured even by memory.

"Go, Thor," he said again. "And remember. We are all walking in shadows."

~FIN~


End file.
